


You're not a hero

by and_awful



Category: Homestuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-02
Updated: 2013-05-02
Packaged: 2017-12-10 04:23:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/781736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/and_awful/pseuds/and_awful
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I had this really great tear-jerker idea for Bro's death, but then I fell asleep and forgot how I wanted it to go, so I pissed out this instead.  Enjoy Bro's death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're not a hero

All your life Bro has been faster than you and he has never let you forget it.  He began to teach you with words how to flashstep just before the game, and you think you were getting the hang of it, but with a new body all of that training has gone to waste.  You don’t honestly know how to do anything useful without legs.  All you can do is float and be pathetic, though you don’t think that’s too different to how you were with legs.

Seemingly out of nowhere, if your lack of adaption is anything to go by, you have to be as swift as you weren’t when you were human.  Bro grabs your hand and promises that you can do it.  He says that you’re amazing at fighting, always have been, and always will be.  You want to hold onto his hand for longer because you’re not ready, never have been, and never will be.

His hand leaves yours feeling stiff and clammy, but you don’t have much time to dwell on it before he leaps away from you with his sword out.  You pull out your own and stumble after him with visibly less confidence.  You know it will make you the preferred target, and maybe that’s why you’re doing it.  If Noir is more interested in you he’ll leave Bro alone, which is good, you think, because Bro won’t die.

The air tastes stale as it enters your nervous lungs.  You feel as useless as a soggy cardboard box compared to Noir, who, with the elegance of a gazelle and a pace to match, swoops down masterfully at Bro.  You never even came close to being that swift, and though you have a lot of faith in Bro, it’s been a while since he’s fought someone who wasn’t awful.  You’re worried that his talents have rusted, but Bro counters.  It isn’t until minutes into the brawl that Bro stops being a distraction to the nigh helpless piece of rotting meat that is yourself.

Noir takes his opportunity to swing at you.  You bring your sword up, resting the flat side of the blade against your palm for extra strength, and block the attack.  He growls at you and you thank God you don’t have knees anymore, because you’re sure they would have just given out with the foul sound coming out of his mouth vibrating throughout your bones.

In an instant he’s moved his sword away, and you lunge forward at him as Cal is being thrown around his body.  Unfortunately for you Noir is swifter, and grabs your wrist, gripping with a strength his physical appearance doesn’t suggest he is capable of, and his physical appearance suggests a strength not even Bro is capable of.  Bro puts Cal away and slices at Noir, acting as bait to draw him away from your body so you can compose yourself.

This slice frightens Noir enough that he changes direction mid-swing from your face to Bro’s anything.  Unbeknownst to Noir as he rushes off to take care of the real threat, his swing has hit you.  A fire erupts from your damn fucking good-for-nothing wing.  Bro’s number one rule of all his number one rules is to not be a pussy.  If you get hit be a man about it and suck it the fuck up.  In the heat of the moment you forget this rule and scream when you look down to your damn fucking good-for-nothing wing really being a piece of shit good-for-nothing fuck.   It lays across the ground surrounded by your attention-grabbing mutant blood acting as a beautiful reminder of how your existence is such a laughable, petty burden to everything that it’s even fucking you over.

Your embarrassingly girlish scream unsurprisingly supplies further proof of how weak you are and how beneficial it would be to just get your life over and done with.  Bro successfully leads Noir quite a ways away from you but it’s not far enough.  You must use your wings to get around a lot more than you originally thought because even the adrenaline that feels like ice flowing through you can’t make you move any faster than a wobbling crawl.

As Noir nears you stop moving and wait.  You wait and feel the warm flow of blood drip from your wing onto your body.  It makes you feel heavier and you wonder if your body is simply stiffening up in shock.  Even closer now, Noir snarls and draws his sword out.  You close your eyes and hear Bro moan, cough, and gargle.  You’re scared to open them.


End file.
